


Blood Red

by OrangeOrchids



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Gen, Insanity, Murder, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, obviously, possibly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:30:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeOrchids/pseuds/OrangeOrchids
Summary: Green thought his day would be great.The start of an adventure.Oh, If only.





	Blood Red

Green's foot met the tile, a tap sporadic and patternless, as his face twisted into his usual impatient frown. He looked up at the clock again and again, the lab empty after the scientists had left for the weekend, and Professor had gone to go get Red.   
  
The balls on the table, glossy with white and scarlet, shone in the artificial light. The clock hands turned minuscule angles as Green sighed.  
  
"He said it would only be a minute..."  
  
The trainer's heart pounded with leftover excitement, his patience for waiting any longer worn thin. Time, rather, sheer impatience chipped at his very soul as if a chisel to a brittle stone. His breathing was oddly erratic, and the air was stiff.  
  
Suddenly the fact that he was alone in the building was made apparent, and the deafening silence rang in his ears.  
  
It was only a matter of time before he hovered over the 3 balls laid upon the table. Each one had a label, metal and grey under them, labeled accordingly. Charmander, Bulbasaur, Squirtle. There was a moment where the already thin air tightened around him, the pressure of choice.   
  
Green swiped Squirtle off the counter, feeling the smooth plastic-like shell against his hand. His grasp on it was firm and he turned around to push the door open. The building sucked air in, cool and fresh.

Green leaves his adoptive grandfather's facility with a scowl on his face. He turns a corner, intending to start his journey with his new stolen companion. But an expression of dread spreads across his face as he does so. He was met with a horrifying sight. A familiar man, his lab coat stained and spattered with blood, laying in the grass. He was perfectly still, and from what Green could tell, he wasn't breathing, either.

With shaky breaths and uncertain steps, Green approaches the body. As he moves closer, he nearly steps on a pair of scissors. Stained and tarnished with dry blood. Continuing to move forward, it was all the young boy could do to keep himself from screaming, creating a new lump in his throat each second he rejected it. It was clear that the older male had taken a few steps before collapsing, leaving him in the dark red puddle of his own.

Oak, when turned over onto his back, was clearly far gone. His usually bright blue eyes were dull, clouded over and devoid of any sign of life. His complexion pale from the amount of blood that had been lost, absorbed by the earth. But perhaps the most telling feature was none other than the fatal wound itself. A large, jagged slash across his jugular. It bore deep into his flesh, maroon, and a small window into his throat.  
  
The smell of metal, stingy blood filled the air. Green's hands were smeared with the blood of his grandfather, slick against his skin. It felt wrong. It felt wrong to even be here. Green's eyes were widened as the realization struck him.  
  
This wasn't Professor Oak. The lively, vibrant guardian he knew. This was a shell, merely a corpse of what once was a man. He laid there limp in front of Green. Something struck his heart in the silence.  
  
"Oh my god."  
  
Green stood up, dizzy on his feet, the grip around his Pokeball tightening. His breathing went erratic, frightened. He only had one thought to do.  
  
"RED!!"  
  
He screamed. When he got no reply, Green screamed louder, his voice raw and gritty. His lungs burned as he inhaled the air, filled with venom and blood.  
  
"Oh my god," He breathed, "He went to go get help."  
  
Green's feet took over, stepping over Oak's bloody body before he ran into the grass, his heart pounding and a bead of sweat rolling down his face. His face grew ghost white, pale as the corpse behind him.  
  
Suddenly the fact that he was always alone was apparent.  
And his blood buzzed in his ears.


End file.
